what happened to the soul that you used to be
by whatsbetterthanpie
Summary: So, he hugs her. It makes her feel warm, the right kind, the best kind. The kind that reminds her that she isn't alone, that she's safe and someone cares about her. She doesn't feel good, yet, but she doesn't quite feel bad anymore. And, for now, that's enough.


When Marinette is a little girl, she falls in love the stars. As she grows, so does her love for them. She loves the constellations and how every single one has a name. She loves how in gazing at and watching them, she finds comfort.

For Marinette, the best thing after a long day- or week or month- is to stare up at the night sky and take in the stars. They're magnificent, timeless, and comforting.

It's comforting to know that the stars are always there, even when she can't see them during the day. It's a different comfort to know that the stars will continue to be there, long after her, long after Ladybug.

Her self-care routine consists of hot cocoa, an oversized sweater, her favorite fluffy blanket and star gazing. This is how she gets through the constant stress, the lonely nights, the breakdowns.

This day is different. This day seems unsolvable. This day feels like worst in a long line of tired, draining days.

Her heart is heavy, her mind is clouded. Marinette wishes she could just think clearly. She can't. She can barely breath.

It's too much.

Her knitted sweater, her favorite fluffy blankets, they're not working like they normally do. They usually offer comfort, safety and warmth after a long, stressful day.

Marinette wishes she were a star. To be bright and beautiful, to not have any responsibilities, no pressure, no feelings. It sounds nice.

Marinette is not okay.

Marinette is tired. She's not sleepy, or in need of a nap. She's exhausted and worn out, weary, fatigued.

If she could, she would sleep for six months.

Her problem is that she can't.

She has responsibilities. She's a superhero, she saves people. She spends night after night, day after day protecting the city and the people that she loves. On top of that, she has school. School means classes to go to, tests to study for, homework to do.

She doesn't know how to make anything better. She doesn't know how to do better.

The sting of Chloe's words from earlier that day is still fresh. She can't seem to get rid of the doubt in her mind.

Maybe Chloe is right. Maybe I'll never amount to anything. Maybe my designs aren't good enough for this year's competition. Maybe Adrien will never like me back. Maybe I'll let the city down, maybe I'll let everyone down, like I've let myself down.

Maybe it's too much.

If she were to voice these thoughts aloud, Tikki would surely refuse to let her belief of such things live. But there's a finality to saying them; it would be proof that she herself believes them. If she doesn't say them out loud, then it's almost like she has more control.

Except she still doesn't have control. She can't control anything in her life.

She feels warm. There's confusion and anxiety and self-hatred bubbling in her stomach and she can't control that either.

The mug of steaming hot chocolate is too hot in her hands, too hot going down her throat. The blankets don't help, not like the usually do. They're suffocating, heavy.

Marinette is tired, tired of being Ladybug, tired of losing, of not feeling good enough. Ever. She's tired of being afraid. Afraid of losing everything that matters to her. She's tired of being afraid of the future and chasing her dreams, of talking to Adrien.

It's too much. There's weight on her shoulders and it's crushing her.

Marinette sighs in frustration.

She needs to move.

"Tikki, transformer moi."

She needs the fresh air, to clear her head.

The rush that accompanies her transformation is like nothing else she has ever felt before. Each time is a new experience, a different, yet still revitalizing rush.

The result of the transformation, Ladybug, has always felt the same. Powerful, capable of anything. Strong and invincible.

This time, it's just sad. She feels the same as before, no newfound happiness or excitement. She feels dull and numb save for the uneasiness in her stomach that's been there for weeks.

She runs, jumping over rooftops, and swings, feeling the cold, brisk air on her face. She tries to pretend that she can fly, that she's free. She isn't, of course, but she thinks this is the closest she can get.

She tries to get as far away from the responsibility and the fear and the soul-crushing anxiety as possible. And when she gets there, she sits.

She sits and she gazes at the stars.

That's how he finds her.

"Ladybug?"

She freezes. Somehow, she had gotten lost in time, in her thoughts, in the stars. She's not sure how long she's been transformed, how long she's been sitting on this rooftop, or how long she's been staring into the sky.

The first thing she becomes aware of is how wet her face is. She had started crying without realizing it. She realizes that she's not quite sure how long she's been crying either.

The second thing she becomes aware of is how cold she is. It's good, the cold, it means that the anxiousness in her stomach is gone, it means she no longer feels like she's imploding.

Adrien envies the stars. He wonders what it's like to just exist. To not have to live up to a preconceived image of yourself.

He stares at them too. He wonders what Ladybug I doing under these same stars. Does she love them as he does? He thinks about his mother, about how they use to admire them together, how he hopes that when she looks at the stars tonight, she thinks of him also.

Like most nights, Adrien is itching to get out. Thankfully, with the miraculous, with Chat Noir, with Plagg, with Ladybug, came freedom.

With freedom, this new power, there's no responsibility, no constraint. He is truly himself.

This night, he feels more compelled than usual to become his true self. He feels drawn to the night as if there's something out there waiting for him, something that he needs to see.

He finds it. He finds her.

He's surprised to see her, he's never known her to be out and about on non-patrol nights.

As soon has he speaks, he notices her body stiffen. And when she turns, he immediately takes note of her tear-stained face.

He's unsure of what to do next. What do you when your partner, the girl who you love, needs help? What do you do when she needs you?

Eventually, he sits down next to her. She seems nervous, like a deer caught in headlights. She seems like she wants to run away. For all he knows, she might, if he asks the wrong question, if he comes on too strong with his obvious concern.

Instead of asking the questions that are burning at the forefront of his mind, he tells her a story. He looks up at the stars and he tells her about his mother and their moments under these same stars.

Neither of them are sure how long he talks, how many stories he tells. It goes on forever, his voice soothes her mind, the gentle pressure of his shoulder next to hers is consistent. It's enough to make her feel like she can speak, like she can open up to Chat Noir.

So, she does.

She tells him everything. Not every single detail. She just tells him how she feels about all of it. Like the entire world is expecting too much from her, from both the hers. How she wishes she could be confident in herself and happy with herself, with her work. She tells him how tired she is. Tired of being nervous and clumsy and embarrassing. Tired of feeling rushed, tired of never having enough time.

She tells him about how she hates the days where all she feels numb and incapable of feeling, incapable of doing.

It's clear that she's not expecting him to say anything back, which is good, because he doesn't know how to keep the "I love you" that's on the tip of his tongue from slipping out.

So, he hugs her. It makes her feel warm, the right kind, the best kind. The kind that reminds her that she isn't alone, that she's safe and someone cares about her.

She doesn't feel good, yet, but she doesn't quite feel bad anymore. And, for now, that's enough.

The next day, Adrien worries about Ladybug all morning. He's distracted, thinking about how upset she was, the worry he felt in the pit of his stomach immediately upon seeing her tear-streaked face. And he's still worried.

He just wants to be there for her. It breaks his heart that she won't let him in; she won't tell him who she is.

He's so distracted with thoughts of Ladybug that he almost misses the look on Marinette's face when she walks in the classroom. Or rather, the look that isn't on her face. Where is the smile that always appears the moment she sees Alya? What happened to the slight blush that appears every time she makes eye contact with himself?

The moment he does notice, the dimness in her eyes and the deep purple bags under them, his heart breaks again. Because here is another girl, one he cares about, who is clearly not okay. Here is another girl, who could be breaking on the inside and refuses to ask for help.

Here is another girl who he wants to hug. But, he thinks, this is not a girl who would let him.


End file.
